


Attic

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2019-09-07 10:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16852297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: While cleaning your attic, you find a box of glass balls with names on them, You accidentally drop one and as soon as it shatters, a person appears.





	Attic

You trudged up the rickety steps of the ladder, bucket of cleaning materials under one arm.  Summertime was wonderful for you as a teacher – a solid two months of time off for you to complete random tasks in your life that you had no time for during the school year.

Or so you always told yourself, at least.

But this summer you really had been good: you started a new work-out routine, actually got up and cooked breakfast every morning, had some sort of outing each day instead of vegging out on the couch.  Better than what you could say about the previous few summers, at least.

The biggest task that you’d taken upon yourself this summer was the one day a week that you dedicated to a major overhaul of one room of the house, scheduling yourself so that you would have a much cleaner, tidier house by the end of the summer.

Today was attic day.

You hardly spent time in your attic, rather just throwing items up there when you needed to store things. Sure, the space was large enough that you could actually stand in most of it, but it was just a hassle to go up and down the ladder that you didn’t use it as much as you should.  Hopefully a reorganization of the space would help you use the space wisely and tidy your life as a whole.

Once you were on the landing, you sighed.  It was awfully dusty and muggy in the room, so the first thing that you knew you’d need was a fan for circulation.  You set the bucket of cleaning items down, heading back down the ladder for your portable fan.  Once it was set up and you had a nice breeze going, you got to work.

You moved the empty storage boxes from around the ladder around so that you actually had room to walk in, stacking them neatly in a corner.  Dust rag in hand, you began wiping down the built-in shelves that had come with the house, mind planning what you could store on them as you worked.

Once the shelves were clear, you found your holiday decorations, organizing them on and under the shelves.  Feeling good about your progress, you sat down on an old lawn chair, taking a sip of your water as you assessed what was left to do.  Your eyes raked the room, seeing the bags of extra bedding, box of winter clothing, and old kitchen things that you’d thrown up here at one point or another.  

Your eyes were finally drawn to the far corner of the attic, where the ceiling was low enough that you couldn’t stand up straight.  A wooden box blended in with the wall there in the dark, and you racked your brain thinking of what might be inside.

Coming up with nothing, you stood, heading over to the box.  You picked it up, shocked at how heavy it was, and brought it back to your chair to open it.

The top was on there nice and tight, not wanting to budge for a minute before you finally got it open. Inside were tons of glass balls – about four inches in diameter and glowing a light blue, an eerie mist-like substance inside.  You didn’t recognize the box or the balls, realizing that they must have been left by the previous owners of the house.

You picked one up, studying it closely.  Etched on one side was a word that you could barely make out.  You rubbed your thumb along the etching, trying to make it more legible.

_Kevin_

You picked up another ball, seeing that it had a different name –  _Luke_.  Ball after ball, they all had different names:  _Chuck, Luigi, Justin, Aaron, Maria, Dennis, Donatello_ …

You had no idea what the point of these balls were or why they were in your attic, so you set the box to one side before standing up to get back to work.

You got into another rhythm, taking care of all of the fabric items and putting them neatly on the shelves.  It was when you were nearly done that you accidentally stepped wrong, catching yourself on the shelf but knocking a few things around, your eyes following the domino effect across the room.  Your broom was last to fall, making the wooden box of balls tumble and the balls roll every which way.

You sighed as you watched them all come to a stop around the room, turning to begin to gather them up again as one of them rolled so hard and fast that it cracked against the wall. A breeze blew through the room and a strange feeling overcame you, making you look toward the broken ball.

The mist that was inside of the ball before was smoking out of it, rising into the air as you watched it. You were frozen, slightly bent over as you went to pick up another ball, watching the mist swirl in on itself.

The breeze in the room picked up, making your hair fly around your face.  You squinted your eyes, trying to watch the mist but getting more and more distracted by the wind.

All of a sudden it stilled, letting you right yourself and your hair.  You looked back over to the ball and screamed, startled to see a man now standing in your attic with you.

He had brown wavy hair, glasses, and a kind smile, but that didn’t calm you about the fact that he was all of a sudden  _right there, in your attic_.

“Who are you?” you demanded, grabbing the broom that had caused the mess and holding it in front of you like a weapon.  The man chuckled, a sound that warmed you from inside.  He bent down and carefully picked up the broken pieces of glass that had once formed a ball, finding the piece with the name etched.

“Chuck,” was all he said at first, pointing at the name on the glass.  “I’ve been waiting a very long time to get out of there.”

The words rolled around in his brain, confusing you even more than you had been before.  “You – what?”

Chuck chuckled again, picking up another ball from near his foot.  He held it tenderly, his thumb rubbing along the etched name.  “I think I have quite a few things to tell you, Y/N.”


End file.
